Too Little, Too Late (31 page)

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Authors: Marta Tandori

BOOK: Too Little, Too Late
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“Are you crazy?” his brother cried. “You got us into this mess; it’s up to you to get us out of it.”

“The girl is a bigger threat,” Leo announced.

“Which girl?”

“Maria’s daughter.”

There was a cold glint in Irving’s eyes. “Don’t you mean
your
daughter?”

Leo said nothing.

Irving set down his glass and went to the front door. Putting his hand on the doorknob, he paused. “By the way, I told Mother you killed Maria.” He turned and looked at his brother. “Do you know what her response was?” When Leo didn’t reply, he forged ahead ruthlessly. “She told me she wished you had died instead.”

It seemed as if the whole thing had blown up in his face in a matter of days. He hadn’t wanted there to be any physical evidence of him having had sex with the girl so condoms were out of the question. That left the old fashioned method of withdrawal. It took almost a Herculean effort for him not to come inside of her. Unfortunately, his timing was off twice. The first time he had been lucky and vowed to be more careful. The second time, his luck ran out. Two months later, he
found out Maria was pregnant which ironically coincided with his wife’s announcement that they, too, were expecting.
 

His mother had gone ballistic when she learned that Maria was pregnant and ordered an immediate investigation. Every employee was interrogated, from the cleaning staff to the male nurses who looked after her to her doctors. The interviews yielded one common denominator –
Leo. When confronted, he didn’t try to deny it, even when Sigi became hysterical, something his mother normally never did.
 

“How could you have done something so utterly disgusting to that innocent child!” she cried, opening another pack of cigarettes and withdrawing one. It was her third pack of the day and it was only noon.
 

He said nothing in his defense. What was there to say?
 

“You’re lucky I managed to convince them not to call the police,” she continued heatedly.
 

“They wouldn’t have called the police and you know it,” he retorted. “They would have had too much to explain.”
 

“You could at least have the decency to feel ashamed.” She took a deep drag, before blowing out the smoke in a steady stream.
 

“A fine bloody mess this is,” his brother spat at him.
 

“I think you and Father deserve the credit for that, don’t you?” he challenged him. “Mother and I merely perpetuated the problem.”
 

“Keep your father out of this,” his mother told him flatly. “I don’t want his name mentioned in my presence.”
 

“Let’s think about this rationally,” his brother suggested. “We’ll have to find a doctor who’ll perform the abortion.”
 

“It’s not that simple,” his mother told him. “Maria’s got a rare blood disorder. The bleeding from an abortion could kill her.”
 

“Jesus!”
 

“I’ll take care of this,” Leo promised.
 

“I’d say you’ve already done enough.” The look his brother gave him was venomous.
 

“That’s enough, you two.” She began pacing the room. “I’ve found a place for her in San Francisco. It’s very discreet and they guarantee complete privacy. She’ll go there after she has the baby.”
 

“Do you think that’s wise?” Irving seemed skeptical. “What if someone talks?”
 

“It’ll be taken care of.”
 

“I still don’t like it.”
 

“Have you got a better idea?” Sigi challenged her oldest son.
 

Irving shook his head. “I suppose not.”
 

Leo tried again. “Let me take care of everything.”
 

“You’ll deal with nothing.” His mother came and stood directly in front of him, her eyes cold and distant. “After today, I don’t ever want to see you again nor do I want you going anywhere near that child, do you understand?”
 

There was nothing left to say. He stood up and left.
 

Two months later, his wife moved in with his brother and his brother managed to talk her into aborting his baby. The loss of his wife had been a bitter pill to swallow but life without Maria was devastating. Her absence from his life was like a gnawing ache in the pit of Leo’s stomach. He never once asked whether Maria had the baby or what had happened to it. Leo didn’t care.
All he cared about was Maria. He drove up to San Francisco with the crazy notion that he would defy his mother’s orders but, in the end, Leo changed his mind.
 

For the next nineteen years, he lived in a perpetual quagmire of self-loathing and the need to be with her. Just when he resolved himself to the fact that he would never see Maria again, Leo learned of her release. He had been given a second chance! This time, not even his mother would keep him from being with Maria.
 

 

CHAPTER 35

“What do you think of this color?” Ashley asked, throwing a tube of Cotton Candy Pinkette at Karen. “Do you think it’ll go with my nose?”

Karen gave her a wry look. “Don’t you mean your dress?”

“Nope,” Ashley told her, looking at her face in profile.

“Yeah, I guess it’ll go okay with your nose.” Karen began rooting through Ashley’s closet. Pulling out a tiger print bustier dress, she held it in front of her. “Do you mind if I wear this?”

“Wear whatever you want.” her friend replied easily. “I’m about due for a new wardrobe anyway.”

“Thanks.”

Although Ashley drove her nuts at times, there were definitely perks to being her friend. Not that her parents skimped on her but Karen’s mother would never consider flying to Paris for the spring and fall collections like Ashley’s mother did. Ashley got a new wardrobe twice a year and luckily, her friend was the generous type who thought nothing about giving away a lot of her stuff. Karen pulled the dress over her head. Somehow, the dress made her boobs look bigger, which she thought made her look older, definitely a plus.

“I am absolutely stoked about tonight,” Ashley told her. “I just hope we don’t bump into your wicked stepmother.”

“She’s the one who gave me the tickets,” Karen pointed out, “and she knows we have fake ID.”

“Great!” Ashley couldn’t help asking, “When are you going to tell me what the surprise is?”

“Later. Right now, I’m more worried about my mom calling here tonight.” Karen nervously tightened the accompanying gold belt around her small waist. “The last thing I need is for her to check up on me. I wouldn’t put it past her, especially after the fight we had earlier.”

“Relax,” Ashley told her. “Even if she does call, Tiana knows exactly what to say. She’s worked for us since I was a kid and is totally loyal to me.”

“Good.”

“So what did you guys fight about this time?”

“The same old shit.” Karen turned to her. “How do I look?”

“Fucking hot.” Her friend rooted through her jewelry box before handing Karen a pair of dangly earrings. “Here. Wear these. They go great with the dress.”

“Thanks.” She took the earrings from Ashley, before putting them in her ears and checking out the effect. They
did
look amazing with the dress. “Do you think I can pass for legal age?”

“You got my vote.”

Opening her purse, Karen checked to make sure she had her fake I.D. “All set?”

Ashley nodded and both girls went downstairs just as the limo pulled up to the front door.

Ashley grinned at her friend. “Is this the surprise?”

“Nope.”

When Spic got out of the limo, Ashley looked at Karen in disgust. “Who invited
her
?”

“Surprise!”

“She and the limo are a package deal?”

“Yup.”

Ashley realized she had been trumped and gave in gracefully. “So, what are we waiting for?” Ashley exclaimed. “Let’s go!”

***

Liz’s dress was an ivory cocktail number from the fifties, bought in a vintage clothing store on Fairfax. She had piled her long hair on top of her head. On her feet, she wore high-heeled sandals which elongated her shapely legs, making her seem taller. For the first time in a long time, she was actually happy to be celebrating her birthday. Hearing the knock on her door, she gave her reflection one last nervous glance before going to answer it.

“Wow!” Otis stared at her, slack-jawed. “Who
are
you?”

“Shut up.” She giggled, feeling a little embarrassed at the way he was eyeballing her. Otis looked pretty good himself. He was wearing dark pants and a jacket with a black shirt. Come to think of it, he looked pretty damned sexy.

“Ready to go?” he asked, holding out his hand.

“Let’s do it,” she replied lightly.

Otis was unusually quiet on the way down the elevator and when the doors opened, Liz immediately understood why. She stopped in her tracks and looked at him in surprise. “Is that ours?” Through the glass doors of her building, she could see the waiting limo at the curb.

“Only until midnight,” he quipped, “and then our fair coach turns into a pumpkin.”

“I think I’m going to cry.”

“No way you’re going to cry and smudge all of that stuff on your face,” he told her, pulling her firmly through the lobby.

As they opened the door of Liz’s building, the driver got out and formally opened the back door for them. Waiting inside were Kim, Harry, Mack and some of her other friends from
Dream Factory
. They were holding a cake and as soon as they saw her, they began singing, “Happy Birthday.”

Liz couldn’t help herself. This time, she did cry.

***

“How come we’re not moving?” Spic asked, lighting up.

“Would you put that thing out,” Karen told her, glancing nervously at their driver through the privacy glass that separated them.

“Well, excuse me for needing a little something to help me cope with tonight’s trauma,” Spic shot back.

“What trauma?” Ashley stared at them in confusion.

“Spic’s in lust with Jericho,” Karen explained to Ashley, “and after tonight, he’s heading to Vegas and abandoning her.”

“You are such a bitch,” Spic told her, looking down in the dumps.

“There are three or four limos ahead of us,” Ashley remarked.

“So much for originality,” Karen told them. “Everybody came with a limo.”

“Oh my God!” Spic cried out suddenly. “Did you guys see who just got out of the first limo?”

“Who?” Karen asked impatiently.

“Lady Gaga!”

“Are you sure?” Ashley asked, craning her neck to get a better look.

“Positive! And look over there.” Spic pointed at someone being interviewed under the Beverly Highlander canopy. “Tell me that’s not Madonna!”

“Look at all the photographers,” Karen moaned.

“What did you expect?” Ashley gave her friend a look of annoyance. “Here we are at the hottest ticket in town and you didn’t think there’d be any photographers?”

“I’m worried about getting my picture taken, smart ass!” Karen fumbled for the car door. “What if I’m on TV and my mom sees me? I’m supposed to be grounded, remember?”

“Are you
insane
?” Ashley grabbed her arm, just as the limo moved forward slowly. “Anybody else would kill to be where we are right now and
you
want to sneak in the back door?”

Spic told Karen. “I’m with Ashley on this one.”

“I want everyone watching when I get out of this car,” Ashley continued imperiously, “and I want them turning green with envy.”

Spic took a drag on her joint. “WASP Princess is right again. After tonight, you’ll be getting calls from Lindsay, Paris and the Olsen twins wanting to be your newest B.F.F.”

“Not the Olsen twins,” Ashley told her. “They’re kind of unto themselves, if you know what I mean.”

Spic tried to focus. “Sure. Whatever.”

“Look,” Ashley told Karen firmly, “you might as well enjoy your five seconds of fame while it lasts.”

Karen looked at them doubtfully. “You guys really think so?”

“We
know
so,” Spic told her confidently as their limo pulled up to the hotel entrance.

Ashley fluffed her hair and stuck out her chest. “Let’s get this show on the road!”

***

He was the reigning king about to abdicate his throne for the greener pastures of Vegas, but until that moment actually came, Jericho D continued to spin his magic while his devoted minions writhed to the beats on
Sins’
tiny dance floor. Those who had been lucky enough to get their hands on a coveted ticket had come to pay homage to their king. Nothing mattered but the music and having a good time as Jericho put Michael Jackson’s “Don’t Stop ’Til You Get Enough” on the turntable amid boisterous clapping and cheering. It was a Jericho staple just like Missy Elliott. Although he played predominantly hi-hop, rock, funk, soul and reggae, Jericho tried to put a bit of a spin on things to keep everything from getting stale which is why he was one of the few turntable maestros who could pack a club on his name alone.

The loud music was giving Eric a headache as he sat alone at one of the tiny tables close to the dance floor, nursing his drink. He hadn’t seen Brooke since she’d left early this afternoon. She was busy giving interviews, shaking hands and generally making sure that everything ran smoothly. He tiredly rubbed his eyes before taking another swallow of his drink. It burned all the way down, causing his chest to tighten uncomfortably. He wasn’t even sure he liked the bourbon but needed to do something to occupy his time until he could talk to Brooke. A couple of good-looking women had tried coming on to him earlier but he wasn’t in the mood for flirtatious come-ons.

MTV was filming everything and although photographers weren’t allowed in, the minute the door opened to let someone in or out, it seemed like a thousand flashbulbs would go off all at once. Earlier, Eric had been asked to move to another table so that his prime location could show some partying Generation Xer’s having a great time when the cameras zoomed in on them. Eric had promised the guy a fat lip if he didn’t back off, which seemed to do the trick, because he was left alone after that. He kept his eyes focused on the entrance where he’d be able to see his wife the minute she walked in.

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